On nights when Morrslieb leers full in a starless sky, something creeps from the dark to feast on prospectors in remote mining camps, leaving their corpses white and drained. Rumours abound that a scarlet-armoured knight rides abroad shrouded by dusk’s shadow, mounted on a skeletal steed in crimson barding, his shield emblazoned with the emblem of a dragon. Some whisper that the walls of Blood Keep are once more guarded, though now with skeletal sentries and the shades of the damned.